


Only the Rum Talking

by agdhani



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Gen, Thursday Tropes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-21
Updated: 2015-01-21
Packaged: 2018-03-08 12:38:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3209516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agdhani/pseuds/agdhani
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rum says the strangest things</p>
            </blockquote>





	Only the Rum Talking

**Author's Note:**

> Another Thursday Trope

Slumped over the table, head on his arm, the fist clenched tight around the mug was the only indication that James Flint had not yet succumbed to the rum. It wasn’t the first time she had found him like this, but unlike so many others, it was rare enough for him that she admitted silent worry for him. He had been here more and more of late, always drinking alone, his eyes constantly seeking something. Sometimes, as she passed through the room, their eyes would meet, and something in his expression would brighten for a moment. Inevitably, some interruption would break through and the look would fade, lost. She didn’t understand it, and in truth, Eleanor didn’t want to understand.

Sometimes understanding led to fear and weakness.

He moaned as she pried the mug from his fingers. His head lifted, drunken eyes catching hers. There it was…that look…a hint of warmth and happiness that she rarely saw on the faces of men such as him. His now empty hand stretched towards her face. Eleanor froze, reflexes telling her to retreat but her feet refused to move.

“I love you…”

His fingers brushed her cheek before his arm dropped, falling with his head and a heavy thud upon the table, his battle with the rum lost.

Eleanor blinked, stared, overcome by the warmth that spread up her body to draw with it a flush upon her chest, her neck, her cheeks. It had been a long time since anyone had said those words to her. But he did not mean them. It was only the rum talking.

But what, she mused as she left him where he slept, her body betraying her efforts to listen to her rational mind, if it wasn’t?


End file.
